


Payback

by pluginbaby



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Cegan, Christmas, Lots of Cursing, M/M, please give me a 5-star rating on yelp (i'm kidding), short and sweet, teen and up just because negan is negan, well short at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 23:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13282191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluginbaby/pseuds/pluginbaby
Summary: Based on this prompt: You're a hitman who takes half up front and then never finishes the job, because what are they gonna do, report you to the cops? Thing is, now you've pissed off a lot of people who have no problem hiring hitmen. (link to prompt in notes)





	Payback

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, and it's a christmasy fic! Becaaause I meant to upload this in time for christmas, but I forgot.  
> 90% dialogue. 110% me trying to be kinda funny and failing.
> 
> Where I found the prompt: https://www.instagram.com/p/BcnkURiBa22/?taken-by=writing.prompt.s

Most of the time, Carl actually liked his job. He made good money from basically not doing shit. He had done shit in the past, and he wouldn’t mind doing it again, but his job right now was just… more fun. He’d set up a meeting with a potential client, sell them his idea, get paid, and then he’d get the hell out of there before he lost his other eye - or worse. His job wasn’t safe, but the money was worth it. The only problem with being a hitman that gets paid half upfront and then doesn’t finish the job is that you risk pissing off a lot of rich people. Pissing people off was usually pretty fun, but when those people don’t seem to have a problem hiring hitmen… Yeah, Carl didn’t really do the math beforehand. 

Using a fake name and a wig usually did the trick when meeting clients, but once you’ve lost an eye ( occupational hazard), the colour of your hair suddenly seems to matter less. This was also something that Carl had realized a little too late, and now it was coming back to bite his ass (and not in a fun way), because Carl had the hottest fucking hitman chasing him. And he was good too. He’d almost killed Carl three times.

Speaking of Carl’s ass, it was hurting like a bitch (also not in a fun way). His face was hurting too. I guess those are pretty normal side effects of being punched in the face so hard that your ass hits the concrete floor. Fucking woops.

“Shit, I didn’t break your nose, did I?” his attacker said, grinning like the maniac he probably was. “That would be Berlin all over again!”

Carl managed a smile, despite the pain. “You almost had me back then”, he said. “But you got seriously sloppy. I mean, handcuffs? Come on, didn’t you learn anything from Fuengirola?”

His attacker laughed at that. “Alright, I admit that I might have underestimated you back then, but I won’t make that mistake again! I’m getting you back for that shit you pulled in Stockholm!”

Carl sat up properly and leaned his back against the wall behind him as the older man bent down and pulled up his sleeve, revealing a scar on his arm. A scar that Carl had given him.

“Are you saying it’s personal now, Negan? I thought you were just in it for the money!”

“Baby, I’m hurt that you would think that! What do you think I’m just some cheap whore? Of course this shit’s personal! Besides, you know how much it hurts getting shot? Oh, my bad! You totally do! And you still pulled the trigger” Negan said as he stood back up and offered Carl a hand.

Carl hesitantly took it and pulled himself up, realizing then how close they were standing. Looking into Negan’s deep brown eyes, he almost forgot his pain.

“To be fair, you tried to kill me. And that bullet barely grazed you! You should see my eye before you start complaining!”

“I’d love to see your eye! Can I?” Negan retorted.

For the first time ever, there was a silence between them. Carl didn’t expect Negan to mention his eye like that, and part of him wanted to lean in closer. But he couldn’t, because he knew that they’d both be reaching for their guns or knives at any second. Just as soon as Negan let go of his hand, which he was still holding after having pulled Carl up for some reason. And Carl wasn’t ready to admit it, but he’d actually had fun being chased by Negan so far, and he didn’t have it in him to kill the man yet. So he did the only thing he could think of. He broke the man’s fingers and tripped him, then bolted shouting, “Sorry! Better luck next time!” without looking back…

 

**[ three weeks later ]**

 

Christmas songs were playing on the radio, and the crackling fire in the fireplace along with some spread out candles were the only light source in the house. Carl returned from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and threw himself on the couch where he proceeded to open it. He looked up at the large family portrait hanging on the living room wall and raised the bottle.

“Well, cheers to you, the Rhee family, whoever you are, for going away this christmas and giving me the opportunity to break into your house and drink your wine. Merry christmas!” Carl said as he took a swig. He turned the bottle in his hand, absentmindedly looking at the label. “And merry christmas, Negan…”

Suddenly he heard footsteps approaching from behind him, and a voice saying, “Shit kid! How did you know I was here? I could’ve sworn I didn’t make a fucking sound, and let’s face it, you weren’t likely to _see_ me”.

Carl jumped at the sound, but didn’t bother turning around. He already knew who it was, and it was confirmed as Negan stepped around the couch and into view, grinning as always. Carl smiled as the man sat down next to him, leaving quite a lot of space between them though, in case Carl decided to try anything.  The younger man avoided the question, since truth be told he hadn’t seen or heard anything. He’d just been daydreaming. He’d done that a lot in the past few weeks.

“How’s your hand?” Carl asked instead.

“Oh, you know, I can’t complain… No wait, I could, given that you broke two of my fingers! Doc said I should keep this shit wrapped like a pretty present for another week” Negan said. “But hey, it’s christmas, so consider me not killing you my gift to you!”

Carl took another swig and passed the bottle to Negan before replying, “How thoughtful! Sorry I didn’t get you anything”.

“I’m fucking _hurt_ ”, Negan smiled and pointedly held up his bandaged hand.

“Christ, that’s awful, even by your standards”, Carl said. “Anyway, what’s my head start?”

Negan downed almost half the bottle before handing it back and answered the question with, “No head start! I’m not killing you, period”.

Carl looked back at the man in disbelief. “Why the sudden change of heart? I thought you said this shit was personal”.

Negan shrugged. “You tell me, kid”.

“Well, your client isn’t exactly gonna give you a 5-star rating on Yelp!”

“My client is dead. Took care of him before coming here. So merry christmas, again!”

“Why?”

“Like I said, you tell me, kid!”

“How can I tell you what I don’t know?” Carl questioned.

Negan rubbed his face, obviously getting tired of this conversation. “I’m not killing you for the same reason that you probably wished me a merry fucking christmas as I entered the goddamn room”.

Carl knew what he meant, but he still wanted to hear it. “You’re not killing me, because I heard you enter the room?”

Negan shook his head. “You and I both know you didn’t actually hear shit! I saw you fucking flinch”.

Carl didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know what to say at all. Negan grew bored with watching the boy try to form words that didn’t wanna come out, so he leaned over muttering a silent, “For christ sake” and kissed him.

It took Carl a few seconds to register what was actually happening, but he dropped the forgotten wine bottle to the floor as soon as he did and started returning the kiss. Things got heated pretty quickly, and Negan couldn’t refuse saying, “I still have the handcuffs I used in Berlin, just so you know”, and Carl didn’t even hesitate as he stood up from the couch and pulled Negan with him in search of a bedroom.

“Fuck, I was joking”.

“Yeah? I’m not!”

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to write a Fuengirola/Berlin/Stockholm prequel if you want to, lol. if you do, remember to tag me or something so I can read it


End file.
